Stains of Life on Piano Keys
by And.These.Are.Lemons
Summary: "The Funeral March had begun, but only at Squee's fingertips." Blubbery one-shot in which Squee's parents have left, and he lives with Johnny and a stupid piano.


_**I think I shall marry Chopin for his wonderful piano song, that lasts a WHOLE about 9 MINTUES. But I love it so! ^^**_

Disclaimer: JtHM (C) Jhonen Vasquez!  
"To the sound of a heartbeat pounding away, To the rythm of the awful rusted machines,We toss and turn but don't sleep, But every breath we take makes us theives."(C) Re-Education (Through Labor) By Rise Against.  
"This is what I brought you, you this you can keep. This is what I brought, you may forget me. I promise to depart, just promise one thing. Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep."(C) Prelude 12/21 by AFI (A Fire Inside).  
The Funeral March (C) Chopin.

**_I just got really REALLY sad, so I thought why not write about a Piano? Its an instrument that almost all the crazy/insane/cruel people use these days! For instance, Dr. House from House M.D., My Chinese Teacher, yeeeeeah....that's about all I have so far...I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

* * *

_**Gently lifting the dusty cover from his father's piano, Squee slowly moved his fingers over the keys. He stared at the bloodstains, knowing good and well where they came from, but pressing that thought to the back of his mind. He promised he wouldn't cry.

"Come on Squeegee, let's get outta here." Nny gently nudged Squee. "I don't like the feeling here, someone's here."

"You're just insane Nny. Stop freaking out." Nny grabbed Squee's shoudlers, causing Squee to face him.

"I was, and still am a bad person. But I would know when another bad person is around. Listen to me. When you've been corrupted by four inatimate objects with voices, gone to heaven and hell, then CAME BACK, I'll let you make your own choices."

"Fine..." Squee left the house shuffling his feet, kicking up dust. He stood in front of the house, calmly kicking at the grass, listening to the sounds of death coming from his fomer home, only a few feet away from his new one. Nny came stumbling out, smiling, covered in blood.

"It was a hobo..." Nny's smile grew. "He was waiting for someone...They're not gonna find him how they expected."

"Can I go back in? I want to see if I can get something."

"Sure sure." Nny followed Squee into the old worn out house. He watched Squee's face turn red when he traced every key of the old Baby Grand. "You want to keep it?"

"How could you tell?" Squee asked sarcastically with tears in his eyes.

"I'm a psychic-psycho."

"There isn't room for it anywhere."

"The basement? I bet there's a floor I haven't used."

"Heh. To the sound of a heartbeat pounding away." Squee played a gentle miniature scale. "To the rythm of the awful rusted machines." Another mini scale. "We toss and turn but don't sleep." Squee played a long string of notes, souding more suited for a guitar than for a piano. "But every breath we take..." The string slowed. "Makes us theives." The string ended, leaving Nny shocked. "I heard you listening to it. Back when I was in elementary school. I liked it, caused me to learn piano because dad thought guitar was too self expressive, that I needed a confined instrument."

"Wow...Well, you're a strong kid, help me carry it over to my house." Nny caught himself. "Er...OUR house."

"Don't worry, it still belongs to you I technically don't even live there. I still live here."

"Not on my watch."

"Fine." They grabbed the piano and slowly moved it into a lower level of Nny's basement. "I'm going back. Gonna find more small things."

"Okay, I'll be down here, tuning this thing..." Nny's voice faded as he reached the end of the setence, Squee never heard it. He walked to his old home, walked into his old room, staring at all the old things that reminded him of when he was a little child. He grabbed a few old stories he wrote, a few old drawings, and some old books. He stared into the eyes of his old stuffed friend.

"You know what Schmee?" He waited for a response, almost certain he wouldn't get one. "Nny was right about you. You don't know the truth. You do tell lies. And you ARE a lint infested BASTARD! Why I listened to you I'll never know! Maybe, if I hadn't, I would have been the most popular kid at the school! I might have been the one to save the other kids from the zombie drug and teach them the real year Colombus discovered America!" (Fun Fact: Colombus Sailed The Ocean Blue In Fourteen Hundred Nintey Two! a.k.a 1492.) Squee grabbed a knife from his desk, still sticky from the blood left on the handle. He stabbed Schmee to pieces so small nobody could fix him. Then Squee burned him. "You'll never ruin someone's life again!" Squee stalked from the yard of his old home and into his new one. He walked down the stairs into the basement where Nny had set the piano. Soft tones flowed from the open door of the small cement room, Squee was drawn to them like a hungry animal to food.

"This is what I brought you, you this you can keep." Two notes high, three notes back down low. "This is what I brought, you may forget me." Two notes higer, three notes back down lower. "I promise to depart, just promise one thing." The notes slowed. "Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep." The notes followed the same pattern, but got quiter until they were nothing.

"That was pretty." Squee tried to keep his voice calm, even though he was scared, he'd never seen Nny so calm. Nny whipped around, almost knocking the bench over. There was a small amount of hope in his eyes.

"Oh...it's only you. Thanks." The hope dissappeared and turned into calm relief, but still sadness shone through.

"Who did you expect it to be?"

"Nobody. You just startled me. I'm going to bed. Wake me up if you need anything." Nny padded off to bed, coughing from the dust.

"Good night, Johnny." Squee smiled, saying Nny's full name became more and more accustomed for Squee, and it made him feel safer, like that the sick souls that were trapped in that house knew that Squee didn't mean them harm, that at least, he wanted to help Nny. "I know how to make sure she doesn't forget you. But first, in honor of the death of an old horrible bastard," Squee walked to the piano, a slow pace, cracking his knuckles. He placed his hands on random keys, not making any noise, took a deep breath, and started to play.

The Funeral March had begun, but only from Squee's fingertips.


End file.
